


Warming Up

by the_one_that_fell



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, Huddling For Warmth, Innuendo, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 16:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11360910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_that_fell/pseuds/the_one_that_fell
Summary: Bitty finds himself unexpectedly dumped in the Pond in the dead of winter. Luckily, he finds he can count on a certain Canadian to warm him up.





	Warming Up

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively titled, “in which LAX bros are unintentional wingmen”
> 
> Originally posted [here on tumblr.](http://alphacrone.tumblr.com/post/162440548232/warming-up-or-in-which-lax-bros-are)

When Bittle returned from his run, Jack knew almost immediately that something was wrong.

From the kitchen, he could hear the front door open and close. But where there  normally would have come a cheerful greeting from the hallway there was only silence. When Bittle didn't come into the kitchen or even pass by the doorway, Jack stood and poked his head into hallway, concern itching at the back of his neck.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw Bittle on the ground. It took a second for Jack to register that Bittle had removed his shoes and socks, and was clutching at his bare feet.

“Hey, Jack,” Bittle said softly, not looking up. Moving closer, Jack could see that the many layers of clothing Bittle had worn for his run were soaked through. Bittle was trembling from the cold, wet hair plastered against his forehead.

“Bittle, what happened?” Jack was almost certain it hadn't rained in the hour Bittle had been gone.

“So you k-know the p-prank war?” Bittle asked, teeth chattering a little. “That the boys hav-ve going with th-the lacrosse team?”

Jack frowned. “They didn't,” he said sharply.

Bittle huffed a laugh. “Couple of ‘em jumped m-me. Threw me in the P-Pond as p-p-payback for Holster and Shitty TP-ing their yard last night.”

“They _what?!_ ”

Ransom and Holster had wandered downstairs by this point, and Jack was pleased to see they looked as pissed as he felt. “The fuck,” Ransom said, crossing his arms. “That's such a dick move. You haven't been a part of this at all!”

“They're all so weak, Bits is the only one of us they could carried,” Holster said angrily. “Douchebag assholes. We gotta get ‘em back.”

“I'll text Shits and Lardo,” Ransom said. “I'm thinking it's time for Operation Panty Raid.”

“Nuh uh, bro,” Holster said grimly. “They attacked one of our own. We gotta up the ante. Operation Hot Sauce Undies is a go.”

“‘Swawesome,” Ransom said, holding out his fist. Holster bumped it without even needing to look. “Don't worry, Bits. We’ll avenge you.”

“Thanks, y'all,” Bittle said with only a hint of exasperation. His shaking was getting worse, and Jack could see his fingers and toes were dangerously close to looking blue.

“C’mon, Bittle, let’s get you changed,” Jack said, hoisting Bittle to his feet. Bittle stumbled a little, so Jack grabbed him by the rib cage to steady him.

“Keep him safe while we’re gone,” Ransom told Jack as Holster disappeared into the kitchen. “Watch over our favorite baker.”

Before Jack or Bittle could tell him to fuck off, Holster reappeared holding several bottles of Sriracha. “Lards is bringing plastic wrap, we’re gonna cover the toilets so they piss everywhere.”

“Rad,” Ransom said, then turned to Jack and Bittle. “If we don't return, remember us as we were.”

“Brave, righteous, and foxy as hell,” Holster finished. Then they were out the door, and the Haus fell silent.

After a beat, Bittle said, “I don't have bail money.”

Jack snorted and shook his head. “I do, but I'm not bailing them out. C’mon, you need to change into dry clothes.”

Bittle sighed and nodded, letting Jack shepherd him upstairs. Jack wasn't the most outwardly caring person, but he had a protective streak a mile long, and the moment he and Bittle were in Bittle’s room he was stripping off the icy jacket and sweatshirt that clung to Bittle’s torso. While Bittle struggled to tug off his leggings, Jack grabbed a bath towel and a pair of thick sweatpants from the laundry basket on the desk chair.

“Thanks,” Bittle said, taking both from Jack, and Jack had to divert his eyes from the sight of Eric Bittle standing there in only his boxer briefs, soaking wet. “Can you grab a pair of undies from the basket, too?”

Jack thought his head might explode, but he managed to snatch a pair of Samwell red briefs and hand them over without saying something stupid. Bittle took them with a smile and Jack barely had time to look away as he stripped down completely.

“That's something they never tell you about the cold down south,” Bittle said softly. “How much it _hurts_.”

Jack looked back again to see Bittle toweling his hair slowly, every motion stiff and forced.

Concern seeped into Jack’s gut. “Bittle, get into bed. You need to warm up.”

Bittle nodded and did as Jack said, dropping the towel to the floor. Jack chewed on the inside of his cheek and looked around Bittle’s room until he found what he was looking for.

“This stuffed moose,” Jack said, picking up the smiling toy. “It's microwavable, right?”

Bittle nodded. “Birthday present from Rans last year. ‘We’ll make a Canadian of you yet, Bits,’ he said.” Bittle sighed, waggling his fingers in air quotes. “There's a core you take out to microwave.”

Jack was out the door before Bittle finished his sentence. His mother had never quite acclimated to Quebec winters, and Jack was proud to see he could still microwave a heating pad _and_ make cocoa in record time. He had both in his hands in a matter of minutes, burning his skin a little, and was back in Bittle’s room as quick as he left. Bittle looked surprised, and nearly dropped his phone when Jack barged back in.

“Here,” Jack said, placing the core back into the Moose and shoving it under the covers down to the place by Bittle’s hip. He then handed Bittle the mug of cocoa, and fussed over his throw blanket as he drank gratefully. “The toy should warm you up soon. Do you need socks? You were holding your toes when I found you…”

“No, Mister Moose should do just fine,” Bittle said. “Thank you, Jack, you didn’t have to make hot chocolate-”

“‘Course I did,” Jack said incredulously. “You don’t like hot tea and it’s too late for coffee. So cocoa it was.”

Bitty was visibly touched, and he set the cup down on his bedside table. “You know, Rans and Holster probably wouldn’t’ve done this for me. You’re a good friend, Jack. A good captain.”

Jack felt something hot well up in his chest. Instead of responding, Jack changed directions. “So, Mister Moose, eh?”

“Hush,” Bittle said, pouting a little. “Save the chirps for when my toes stop hurting.”

“ _Monsieur Orignal_ ,” Jack said, smirking a little.

Bittle glared at him, clearly fighting a smile. “Sayin’ it in French doesn’t make it less of a chirp, Jack Laurent.”

Feeling a bit awkward, Jack sat down on the bed by Bittle’s waist. Almost instinctively, Bittle shifted closer, until he was pressed up against Jack. “It is if you can’t understand what I’m saying.”

“Chirp, chirp, chirp,” Bittle mumbled. “Christ, you’re so _warm_. Have you been sitting in a _sauna_?”

Jack laughed and moved so he was leaned up against the headboard. Bittle flopped his head against Jack’s arm, sighing happily as he pressed his frigid nose into the skin just below  Jack’s sleeve. “Warmer than _Monsieur Orignal_?” Jack asked, mostly to be a little shit.

“Somehow, yes,” Bittle said, voice muffled by Jack’s bicep. “Please stay in my bed _forever_.”

Normally, Jack would have found the little “eep!” Bittle uttered in mortification to be cute. However, in this moment, his brain was hung on the idea of being in Bittle’s bed...in _another_ context. His dick twitched traitorously.

“That’s not what I meant, Jack, I swear-”

“It’s okay,” Jack heard himself say. He wasn’t sure how he was speaking at all, given the images flashing through his mind like a soft porn montage: Bittle pulling back the covers to reveal his naked chest to Jack; Bittle gasping as Jack licks his way up rivulets of muscle; the broken, whimpering sound he makes as Jack grazes his teeth across a nipple-

“No, it’s not, I should be more careful,” Bittle said, face turning pink, smile gone. Jack didn’t like when Bittle wasn’t smiling. He _did_ like when Bittle was flushed like that, however. “Not everyone is as understanding as you…”

“No, Bittle,” Jack said, words almost slurred with how little his brain was functioning right now. “I mean, it’s _okay_. I wouldn’t...wouldn’t mind if you meant it that way…”

Bittle’s brows drew together, mouth pursing. “What are you saying?”

But Jack had never been good with words, especially not while his dick was trying to think for him, so he leaned over and kissed Bittle, soft and brief.

“Oh,” Bittle breathed as Jack pulled back. “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, eloquent as always. “I, uh. Um. Yeah.”

Bittle smiled, small and tentative, and pressed his lips to Jack’s again, a little harder, a little more urgent. Jack turned to better face him, cupping his face with one hand, and Bittle _shuddered_.

“You know,” he said, voice still soft but harder around the edges, dripping in suggestion. “I’ve read that, uh, skin-to-skin contact is the fastest way to warm up.”

“You know,” Jack said, grabbing his shirt by the collar and tugging it over his head. “I’ve heard that, too.”

Jack almost had a sense of deja vu as Bittle pulled back his duvet, dressed only in his briefs, chest flushed with excitement. Jack shucked off his jeans and crawled in next to Bittle, hands unable to stay still as they roamed every inch of Bittle’s torso. Bittle arched into Jack, mouth finding his in a series of lazy, open kisses, more biting and sucking than the press of lips.

“Alright, Bittle,” Jack said gruffly, pushing Bittle onto his back and straddling his thighs. Bittle looked up at him with wide, happy, hungry eyes, chewing on his lip in the most maddening way. Jack drank in the sight of him, wondering how he hadn’t dreamt of this sooner, wondering if he would ever dream of anything else ever again. (God, he hoped not.) “Let’s warm you up.”

**Author's Note:**

> [alphacrone](http://alphacrone.tumblr.com/)on tumblr. 
> 
> If you think my writing's swell, please check out my original project, [The Discourt Knife.](http://thediscourtknife.tumblr.com/)Chapter 5 is going up tomorrow, and there's lot of banter and Fighting Evil in this update. Check it out!


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